


The Vongola Pack: Inverted

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Series: Pack'verse [5]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alpha Xanxus (Reborn!), Alpha to Omega Transition, Alpha/Omega Traits as the Earthborn's Legacy, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Implied/Referenced Relationship(s): Enrico/Guido, Implied/Referenced Relationship(s): Squalo/Xanxus, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Enrico (Reborn!), Over-Elaborate Worldbuilding, POV Enrico (Reborn!)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: In which Xanxus confronts Enrico, and Enrico makes a suggestion. (He doesn't really expect Xanxus to take him up on it. He has no regrets.)
Relationships: Enrico/Xanxus (Reborn!)
Series: Pack'verse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082441
Comments: 23
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Vongola Pack](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338180) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare). 



“Did you _know_?” He closes the ledger carefully, holding on to his composure with his fingertips; his baby-brother’s Flames had only grown impossibly stronger since his presentation, and he was ashamed of how they made him feel.

“Did I know what, Xanxus?” He keeps his voice level; there were half a dozen skeletons he could think of that his brother might have found, several of them even non-metaphorical. “Papa likes his secrets; which one did you discover?”

His non-answer makes his volatile baby-brother pause for a minute. “… he’s not my actual father.”

“Ah. I did wonder. Does it matter? You’re clearly Vongola -“ he gestures at the composite sketch on his office’s wall; it featured the first seven of the family’s Dons, and as far as he is concerned, his little brother looks like a cross between his Nonna and Secondo. “- and your Mama died in our infirmary within days of appealing to Papa for help; she had a nasty late-stage cancer. Would staying on the streets without her really have been the better choice?”

The fury goes out of his baby brother’s Flames, leaving them merely chokingly thick in his office, a heavy blanket he can barely keep himself upright under. “I-wanted-to-be-Don.”

He bites his lip. He _should_ be offended that his baby brother wants to steal his inheritance. (He isn’t; he doesn’t want to keep drinking from the chalice his father has poisoned.) “You still can. You’ll just have to persuade Sawada to nominate you.” His baby brother gives him a guilty look. “What did you do, brat?”

“Sawada’s dead.” He hisses and Xanxus squirms. “He was paying to do _nasty_ things in the dock-side brothels, so I slit his throat and dumped him in the harbor.” He rubs his temples. “I didn’t use any Flames?” His baby brother - not his brother; it didn’t make what he was more contemplating any more acceptable, though - makes the admission as if it might help. (It sort of does, actually.)

“Nasty?”

“ _Nasty_.” Xanxus is emphatic, and he hums thoughtfully. He’d thought Xanxus was a bit young, but perhaps he could talk Papa into letting him manage their brothels? He certainly wouldn’t have any issue about thinking of the working boys and girls as human. “He looked at Squalo like that sometimes, too. Even before he Presented.” He winces; his baby brother and his Rain weren’t quite as codependent and symbiotic as he and his Cloud, but that wasn’t for want of trying. He couldn’t imagine -

“Papa’s going to go insane for a while when he realises he’s dead, Xan.” That was an understatement. He remembered the row between his parents when the blond had been … found. (He still didn’t understand why, given his obsession, his father had remarried to acquire his spares rather than just bitching the blond the way he clearly wanted to.) The way his baby brother frowns at him says he doesn’t quite understand. “It’s one of the skeletons I thought you might have found, brat. Papa’s spent twenty years lusting over the idiot’s ass -”

“After _Sawada_ -“ Xanxus shakes his head in disbelief.

“- I never did figure out why. I mean he did boast about being descended from Giotto, but it was more than just that.” He chews his lip, fiddling with the Sky Ring on his finger. If Xanxus _really_ wasn’t his brother, there was a way he could transfer his nomination. (And his Papa was far too fond of telling him, he was far better at the housekeeping than he should be given his circumstances.) “Why do you _want_ to be Don, Xan?”

Xanxus looks at him warily. He doesn’t blame him; it must seem like there’s a trap in the question. And there is - but not the sort of trap his baby brother is used to looking for. “I want to have a Pack. A real Pack that’s mine. With kits. And I want them to be safe.” He hears the unspoken words and curses his father’s idiocy. He and Massi and Fede had an informal Pack - his father had never formed one - but Xan had been younger, and their father had banned them from folding his self-proclaimed bastard kit into it.

“Being Don won’t keep your kits safe, Xan.” It hadn’t kept him safe from being grabbed from his scuola dell’infanzia - or from being forced Active prematurely. (Or having Reborn set on him.)

“Will if I’m like Nonna rather than Papa.” His lips curve in mild amusement.

“I think you’re missing certain traits of hers, brat.” Like a certain, innate nature. “And her choices left the Famiglia with Papa, so she might not be the _best_ choice to model yourself on.” Xan twitches. “In fairness, I suspect we’d have more uncles if she hadn’t had a war to fight; maybe one of them would have been a better choice to inherit.”

“Nonna was an _omega_?”

“A natural one. The Varia was her Pack, brat.” Xanxus gives him a wide-eyed look. “Yeah, Papa squirms when anyone even alludes to that. It’s actually the skeleton I thought you’d found. I knew you wanted the Varia, and I wondered if you’d discovered you needed to be an omega-Sky to genuinely make them bend to your Will. And that being a post-presentation bitched-omega probably wouldn’t be enough.”

Xanxus shudders.

“Being an omega isn’t such a bad thing, Xan. I wouldn’t mind having an Alpha -” his baby brother makes a face at him, and he wonders what he’d seen in the red light district, “- though I’ve managed to resist the urge to let Guido bitch me for fifteen years. Massi and Fede … I love the pair of them, but when I survived Reborn, Papa really did just treat them as spares, and if I was bitched by a non-Sky, one of them would have to inherit.”

“But …”

“If I submitted to an alpha-Sky who could claim the Rings, he could inherit in my stead.” Xanxus stares at him, working through what he’d just said.

“You want me to _bitch_ you?!”

“I want you to decide whether you want to inherit by making a bloody mess or inherit by fucking me full of kits.” He sits back in his chair and lets his baby brother mull over his words. “Either route is going to mean swallowing Papa’s bullshit for at least another six months if you want to be sure of success.”

“I -”

“You can spend time thinking about, Xan. In the meantime … I think you need your first, um, portfolio to work on.” He toes his bottom drawer open and retrieves the relevant USB-stick. “Go through this, Xan. Let me know what you’d do to make our people safe - because the working boys and girls _are_ ours - and bring me a plan. If I agree, you can take over their security; it’ll give you access to funds, and if you’re good to them, a power base.”

* * *

He wakes up slowly, sluggishly, and presses back into the warm body behind him - he’d spent the day wrangling his father’s bout of Sawada-induced insanity - and wriggles. “Hoped you would get my message, Guido -”

“You weren’t joking, were you, ’Rico?” He twitches, resisting the urge to roll over and make his baby-brother do this whilst looking him in the eye. “About wanting to be bitched.”

“Mmm. I really wasn’t. I like being raked. A lot. And I want kits … but none of the potential candidates appealed. Even the poor kit the Cavallone had cut specifically. Though he hasn’t finished Presenting, and they cut him so young he’s going to be almost irresistible when he’s done -” Wrath Flames lick over the bed, and he shivers as he’s left nude and uncovered. “- so if what you’re here to do is to bitch me, brat, I suppose all I can do is spread my legs and say yes, please.”

He matches his actions to his words, rolling onto his front and spreading his legs, and consciously trying to relax. Taking an alpha’s cock was something he’d learned to do the hard way. (And he suspected his baby brother was a mutt with some Cavallone to go with everything else in his Family tree; Wrath was a very Cavallone Flame. Ricardo had been the product of a cross with the horse-keepers.)

“There’s lube in the bedside table, Xan. But really, if you’re going to bitch me, it’s going to go faster if you fuck me dry, even it makes it hurt.” His baby brother squeaks, and he chuckles. “I like it, Xan. Guido and I have been dancing the edge of me transitioning for years. I even get wet sometimes; we have to abstain for months after we go that far. Just in case.” He squirms, recognising the state of his soon-to-be-pussy. “I’m supposed to abstaining at the moment -”

He hears Xan swallow and fuck, he and Guido really had gone too close to the edge the last time they’d played; he was slickening spontaneously and his state was clearly externally visible. “- fuck. I talked to some of the madams, ’Rico. How are you still playing the Alpha so well? They have made-omegas working for them with cunts less well-developed.”

“Willpower, mostly. Are you going to take what I’m offering, Xan? All of it?” His answer comes in the form of greedy hands tugging his hips up, and he goes soft and pliant and sweet for his baby brother; he’s rewarded with blunt pressure to his hole, and he bites his lip and pushes back, onto Xan’s cock. It’s longer than Guido’s - and he decides that his guess of there being a Cavallone in his baby brother’s immediate family is pretty much guaranteed - and thicker, and he whines as his body tries to resist the penetration; even without his baby brother’s barbs flared, it aches and burns to take it -

“Fuck. Papa should have had you cut the way the Cavallone cut the pony-trash. You clearly mis-Presented -” he snarls, shifting under his baby brother and Xanxus pins him down, keeping his cock firmly sheathed in his ass. “- not the age they cut the pony-trash, ’Rico. But later, when you started Presenting; then you could have all the kits you ever wanted -” he shivers and squirms; the way Xan was talking about it made it clear he’d been doing his research in the fortnight since he’d made his suggestion.

“- shut up, Xan, and fuck me. We can discuss the ethics of the omega-surgeries and funding them later.” He flares his Flames, making them soothing and sweet and his baby brother dives into them, flaring his barbs in the same moment. It hurts so sweetly, and he thrashes, desperate for more and desperate for relief, too; Xanxus’s cock was so big, his barbs so sharp that he didn’t know what to do with the sensations. He babbles as much and Xanxus chuckles, raking him viciously, snapping his hips over and over again until he’s sobbing with the pleasure-pain of being bitched. He can hear every wet stroke, the slick that has always been a warning sign in the past dripping from his opening to coat his balls and it’s far more arousing than he thought it would be to be so wet, so open.

“You’re in Pre-Heat.” The words are almost accusatory. “You really have been playing hard with your Cloud.” Xanxus nips at his nape. “That stops, ’Rico. Your pretty pussy is all mine. That’s my condition: that you use it to give me as many kits as you can.” He shivers and arches back into his baby brother’s thrusts. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Getting to be the Pack’s Donna, I mean; would you let me cloister you, ’Rico? I’d keep you safe and warm and fat with my kits -”

“- didn’t realise we’d got my body so close.” He focuses on the first part of his Alpha’s words, ignoring the way his pussy clenches at the idea of being kept cloistered by his baby brother, his only purpose to raise their kits. (He suspect Xanxus realises though.) “Want kits so badly, Xan -”

“And I’m going to give them to you, ’Rico.”

He rolls from Pre-Heat into full-Heat almost without noticing; his baby-brother’s stamina is impressive. (Was he in rut? If he was, his brother was far better at managing it than he or Guido had ever learnt to be. They both rode them out with a fleshlight rather than risking an accidental bitching.) The feverish need rolls through him, over him, and it’s only years of dancing on the edge of transitioning that keeps him even half-way conscious. Keeps him writhing and begging and egging his baby brother on and on and on until they’re both sore and exhausted and it’s only his PTSD and Guido’s Flames keeping him aware (he hates that they do so; he’s been fighting to break that loop since he was five).

“’Rico?” His baby-brother’s cock is soft, slipping free of his pussy and he drags Xan beneath him, burying his head in his Alpha’s neck. “Shhh. What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be asleep after that?” He mumbles something - even he’s not sure quite what he says - into Xan’s skin, and his baby-brother responds by filling the air with his Flames until they’re so thick and heavy that he can’t feel _anything_ through them. “Gonna sleep now or do I need to take another of the pills I took earlier and spend another few hours raking your sweet little cunt?”

He _clearly_ needed to interrogate his baby-brother. But later. (He was probably going to regret sending Xan into the red-light district to find a purpose. It was, however, going to be a _very_ sweet death.)

* * *

“Shhh. I forged your signature on a note to the old man; he thinks you’re in North Italy trying to track down a relic of Nonna’s, so you can sleep off your Heat-hangover, ’Rico. But I need to be at dinner before I go into Palermo tonight. I’m guessing we need to wait for the kits to quicken, right? You were talking about six months for either plan -”

He struggles to make his brain work, and Xanxus takes mercy on him, holding a cup of coffee out to him. He takes it and swallows it without thinking. (He has a moment of panic when the caffeine hits his bloodstream, but for all the kits are already ‘real’, they aren’t dependent on anything more than his Flames yet. He had time before he’d have to give him his espresso habit.)

“Need to make sure he can’t make my kits go away.” Xanxus snarls, and he whines, a soft little needy sound that has his alpha looking at him like he wants to eat him up. “He threatened that, once, when Guido took me a little too close to the edge and I came to breakfast smelling like an omega.”

“You’re making it _really_ hard to sit opposite him without murdering him and dumping in the harbour like Sawada.”

“If you want it to be a smooth transition of power, Xan, safe for our kits, you need to lock that rage up and smile at Papa and let him think _everything_ is normal.” He allows his lips to curve. “Consider fucking me into my mattress a motivator to behave, Xan. If you behave, we can do it nightly; if you don’t - well, there’s a reason I haven’t tried to force Papa to step down, and I really don't want to have to break my kit's sire out of the Fort's dungeons.”

His Alpha scowls, and he leans forward and kisses the tip of his nose.

“I have some techniques to teach you before you try and go toe-to-toe with him, Xan. And we need to do something a little risky in a few days, so the Ring is willing to accept you over me, too. Now, unless you’re going to rake me before dinner, shoo and let me get some more sleep. The coffee’s not helping enough to keep me awake.” His Alpha grumbles softly, and tucks him back into his nest, laying his - Xanxus’s - jacket over him in a possessive gesture that makes him squirm and liquid Heat pool in his belly. He _ruthlessly_ ignores it; he needs to recover before he allows his Alpha to rake him again - and needs time to reconfigure his own plans to account for his baby-brother’s.

Xanxus slips out of the room, closing the door behind him, and he squirms deeper into his nest, intending to sleep. But it doesn’t come; without Xanxus’s heavy-handed Flames, his own are twitchy, volatile, Guido’s instincts fighting with his own, with his new status. He gives in and tugs on his bond to his Cloud gently, hoping that the other half of his soul might be able to help him figure it all out.

“… so I’m guessing he took you up on your invitation, Boss.” He nods, cheeks hot. “So what do you need from me?”

“Talk to Xan’s Rain. Tyr wants to retire; he talked through his potential successors with me, to get my input, and Squalo's a _very_ strong candidate for the role. And given we’re going to need out of the Fort before Papa notices the kits ...”

Guido pulls a face, and he raises an eyebrow. “Can’t I just let Tsuyoshi know we know where he’s hiding and that it’s time to come back to work? His kit is a cutie-pie -”

“- Xan’s going to be Don, not me, Guido. The Varia need to be his, not mine.” He bites his lip. “But go and see him? His name made my intuition twitch, and I want his kit safe, so -”

“You going to be okay if I go to Japan for a week, Boss?”

“I’ll have to be, won’t I?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Did you find what you were looking for Enrico?” He’d expected the question, and, once he’d slept off the rest of his Heat, had gone digging around in his private vault to ‘create’ an appropriate artefact. (The other possibility when he’d come down to breakfast had been his Papa challenging him about why, if he’d been up in the Tyrol as claimed, he’d never left the Fort - and why Guido had flitted off to Japan. He’d had a solution for that, too.)

“I did. It turned out to be one of Nonna’s cross-bows, Papa. One of her better ones, too, given the state of its prod and tiller.”

“Hmph. Not what I’d hoped it would be; we still haven’t accounted for all of the focus Rings that the inventories say existed in 1930.” His father pauses and then makes a face. “I suppose leaving one of her bows out there would have been a bad idea, too, given how overpowered and _simple_ the later ones became.”

“Xanxus’s weapons caches will be a nightmare for our Dodicesimo.” His father snorts. “He let me fire his pistols a few weeks ago; compared to Nonna’s bows, they’re finicky if you don’t have his composite, but if you can force them to work, they’re _incredibly_ destructive.”

(He breathes an internal sigh of relief; the thorough shower and blocking lotion seemed to be doing the trick. He didn’t want to push his luck, but when he’d slipped before, his father had noticed _immediately_.)

“Where’s Guido scurried off to, Enrico?”

“He heard a rumour that we thought need following up on.” His father makes a go-on gesture. “We both know Iemitsu had yakuza heritage. There were no Flames on his corpse, but there was a _lot_ of Meth residue in his hair - Guido’s following up on whether he's been embarrassing them.” The emotions that flicker over the surface of his father’s Flames made him wary. “He’s going to check on Sawada’s wife, too. I set up an annuity for her.”

The Flames spike and flare, and he flattens his own in response, projecting as much calm as he can find. (He really didn’t understand why his father hadn’t just bitched the blond when he’d first ‘bought’ him from his yakuza clan. It would have made everything so much _simpler_.)

“You did make the maintenance of the families of our dead my responsibility, Papa. About five years ago, remember? I believe it was supposed to be a punishment for preferring house-keeping over combat.” He wonders what Guido’s going to find in Japan; there was clearly _something_ about Sawada that his father hadn’t shared.

“I would have preferred to handle her myself, Enrico.”

“This way you get the best of both worlds, Papa. Guido is going to forever be the person she associates with Iemitsu’s death; in a few weeks or months, you can reach out and not be blamed at all.” He cringes slightly; he had no desire for whoever Sawada had married to become his step-mother, but that would be a long, long way in the future. If it happened. “I did have something else to raise with you, Papa.”

He gets another ‘out with it’ gesture.

“I’ve been petitioned again about the custody of a kit within the Alliance that’s being abused.”

“…” He hears what his father leaves unsaid loud and clear. _‘Aren't you ashamed? Even the bitches think you’re one of them.’_

“Papa. Without one of us having an omega - or a wife - they have to appeal to us directly. And that’s unnerving for most of them.” His father scowls. “Don Falco’s civilian bastard is now Flame Active, and he’s refusing the boy’s maternal uncle, an omega with a parent-kit bond to the child access to him. The omega’s an independent, so he can’t claim that he’s preventing an attack or kidnap by refusing him access.”

“This is about the damned _Falco_ kit?”

“… this is about a kit who is directly related to G, Papa. Yes, his father is Don Falco, but his mother - and maternal uncle - are from the line we lost track of in the eighteen fifties. I’ve seen the evidence of the relationship. I really do think we need to intervene.”

* * *

“That’s a neat trick you used on your office door. It gave my shark-trash a nasty headache when he decided to be an overprotective idiot.” He yawns and rolls over, thoroughly appreciating the view he’s rewarded with. “I’m guessing it’s part of the bundle of tricks you think I need to learn?”

He makes a vaguely affirmative sound, and a second, happier one, when his baby brother peels off the lightly armoured clothes he’d worn to go out among their whores.

“… sex and cuddles?” His brother’s voice is almost hesitant; he’ll have to interrogate him later, but in the meantime, asking is definitely behaviour to reward (he’d gotten genuinely _wet_ when he’d realised who was speaking; he’d thought the bit of slick he’d produced before was alarming, but this was going to take a while to get used to).

“Absolutely, Xan. It’s _very_ rare that I’ll say no to you, but thank you for _asking_.” His baby brother (his Alpha; he had to remember that) burrows under the covers with him, and he hisses as a cold hand finds his cock - he stays hard, but his barbs retreat - and Xanxus’s brutally oversized cock prods at his crack gently, sliding away from its target thanks to his slickness. “I’ve had twenty hours or so to recover, and it means you’re going to have to ‘force’ your self in, sweetheart. It’ll get easier when my body finishes the process we’ve started with my first set of kits.”

Xanxus mumbles something into his shoulder, but the hand on his cock vanishes and he gasps as it’s used to guide his Alpha’s cock into his body. The stretch aches, but he _knows_ his body can take the stretch. Has taken it. And it doesn’t burn the way it had before when he’d first learnt to take cock; he can ride out a little discomfort for the reward. “Fuck, how does your ass feel so good, ’Rico? So hot and wet and _tight_ \- please say I can rake it? Please? I have the control not to, but it would be so ridiculously hard -”

“I’m _your_ omega, Xan. That’s why. And of course, you can.” Almost before he finishes the last syllable, his Alpha’s barbs flare, sharp and vicious and he keens in pleasure as he’s raked without the benefit of his heat. He pants, the pleasure so overwhelming that his vision greys out, his fingers and toes going numb and Xanxus stills inside him. He whines - he’s pulled the same trick when fucking Guido, and he knows what his Alpha is about to do.

“Back with me?” He nods, and Xanxus’s hand wraps around his cock, stroking it gently, making him whine and squirm and start to fuck himself on his Alpha’s cock with increasing desperation. “Don’t worry about raking me, ’Rico. My hand will heal. Just concentrate on feeling good -” he pants; he’s so damn close “- I want you to clamp down on my barbs so hard you’ll feel them for _days_ , ’Rico. I want you to be standing in front of the old men with your scent blocker and your cunt throbbing like I’m only just done fucking it.” He cums. And shrieks; his baby brother’s barbs make the pleasure agonisingly sharp, and Xanxus is cruel - he’s shoved over onto his front, and his Alpha hunts his own pleasure with short, vicious _punishing_ strokes than have him bouncing from peak to peak to peak without coming all the way down.

He comes down slowly and squeaks as he realises that despite him not being in Heat, Xanxus has still managed to tie him as _well_ as thoroughly raking him. “I _really_ shouldn’t have sent you into the catteries, should I, Xan?”

“It’s been an _education_. And I don’t think you really regret it, do you, ’Rico?” He makes a soft, incoherent sound, and Xanxus chuckles, amused.

* * *

“Enrico-ji?” The voice is childish, and his only warning before he’s swarmed. Which, given he was only expecting _one_ kit, was rather an achievement for the kit in question. “Guido-ji and Tou-chama said we were coming home and to bring my precious things, so I did.”

“So, you remember how you wanted to check on Sawada’s wife?” His Cloud sounds simultaneously amused and disgusted. “Well, it turns out she’s insane. I had her taken in for an assessment, only to get a call from the medics about what I wanted to be done with the smaller of your two new kits, Boss; Takeshi resolved the issue by chinning him. The third just appeared at the airstrip, complete with a suitcase and Takeshi was very firm about him being Pack, too, so I brought him with us.” He chins each kit in turn - he hasn’t seen Takeshi in the flesh since he’d helped Tsuyoshi give birth to him - and stretches his senses out carefully, trying to get a ‘feel’ for his new kits.

He actually _squeaks_ when two kit-bonds snap into place alongside the one he’d had to his Rain’s kit as the man’s Sky. The tiny Sky and Cloud are so achingly powerful and lonely that he has no idea how they’ve survived so long. He’s going to have to modify his plans on the fly; while his quarters are at least somewhat shielded, there’s no way he can keep the little Sky on his chest hidden from his father for long. “Does Papa know they’re here?” He speaks in Italian; he has no desire to worry his kits.

“Tsuyoshi and I improvised, Boss. He knows that Takeshi is here - Tsuyoshi’s spinning a yarn about why he took off with his kit. He’s planning to use his sword’s nature as part of the story. I’m fairly sure most of what he’s planning to tell him is true, actually.”

“Kintoki-ji gives the _best_ cuddles.”

“I see tou-chama has been practising Italian with you, Keshi-kit.”

“Sicilian.” The correction and the lisp are both adorable. “Did Keshi-tan do well?” He chins the kit again gently.

“You did. I do have to ask though, kit; what happened that all three of you are Active?”

“Tsu-tan needed us. So we were. Kyō-tama was confused, but I told tou-chama, and he was making plans. Then Guido-ji came, so we came home.” The little Cloud being confused was concerning; he _had_ to be related to Fon somehow, and for him not to know …

“What should Tsu-tan call Takeshi’s Enrico-ji?”

“That’s up to you, kit.”

He _expects_ Enrico-ji. What he gets is. “Hai. Okaachama are s’pose to be warm and safe. Enrico-kaa is, so Tsu-tan thinks should be okaachama.” He actually blushes (and his cruel Cloud takes a picture; he hears the click).

“We’re going to set up an impromptu nursery in what should be Tsuyoshi’s room in our suite, ’Rico. He’ll be sleeping in my bed -” His Cloud never had approved of the part of the plan that had involved Tsuyoshi vanishing with their eldest kit. “- and I’ll get the Villa you inherited opened up asap; the Fort Mists won’t tell your father - they’re all too fond of you because you give a fuck about the housekeeping to tell tales. And all three of the little menaces have a secondary Mist Flame, too.”

“You’ve been _very_ quiet, little Cloud.”

“Hn.”

“I think your arashi-ji is in Italy; do you want to meet him?”

“Hn.” His eyes flick to his own Cloud, and Guido taps a message into his phone. “Stay with small animal. Small animal is Kyō-tan’s.”

“He’s clearly your Sky, kit. No one is going to try and separate you. Especially not with this -” he tugs on the kit-bond gently, pouring affection along the bond “- forming so easily.” The Cloud kit squeaks, cheeks going pink, and that breaks his heart. It says that he’s rarely had that sort of easy affection, and he wraps all three kits up in his Flames and purrs at them, wanting to make it clear they’re safe and _his_. "But your ji-san might have things to teach you, kit; families often have secrets. Think about Takeshi and Tsuyoshi and their pretty sword-ghost; would you want to miss out on something like that?"

"Have small animal. Is all Kyō-tama needs." He sighs, and Guido shakes his head and retreats from the room, leaving him pinned to the oversized sofa by his new kits.


	3. Chapter 3

“That is a far hotter sight than it should be.” His Alpha is in the doorway, lent across the jamb, and he twitches under his pile of sleeping kits. “Even if we were only expecting one. Introduce them to me?”

“Takeshi is Guido and Tsuyoshi’s kit. He’s the one tucked into my left side; Guido’s never forgiven me for sending them away, but Papa was enraged when I didn’t ensure my omega Rain only bore me kits until I had an heir. Kyoya is the one on my right; he’s Fon’s nephew, and we should contact him -” his Alpha chews his lip. “- Xanxus?”

“Viper’s my Mist.” He raises an eyebrow.

“And yet Papa was still being an idiot?”

“I didn’t tell him.” He groans. “And the one on your chest?”

“Tsunayoshi.” He hesitates. “He’s Sawada’s son, but well -” he coaxes the little Sky into turning his head, “- as you can see, he’s his mother’s child, and his Flames are so different from his.”

“Some fucker is fucking with us. He’s as much Giotto’s clone as I am Ricardo’s, isn’t he?”

“And Takeshi is an Asari through and through, and Kyoya is a dark version of Alaude.” He eyes his Alpha. “They’re _my_ kits.”

Xanxus tilts his head in acknowledgement with a smile on his lips. “If nothing else, you’re showing off just how much of an omega you are ’Rico. It makes me want to drag you into your nest and plant more kits into your womb.”

“Then you can help me carry them into their new nursery, and then you can fuck me senseless. I knew you were there before you made yourself known, brat. I _slicken_ at the faintest trace of your scent, Xanxus.”

His Alpha shudders and steps forward, Flames dancing on his skin, and he lets him scoop up Tsunayoshi; he considers it a good sign. (He’d been a little worried about his Alpha’s response to another man’s Sky-kit being included in his nursery.) “Even I can tell he’s too small.”

“Takeshi said he and Kyoya went Active for his sake.” Xanxus makes a face, and he sits up; Takeshi and Kyoya cling to him sleepily like little koalas. “And his Mama is currently in the best private facility in Switzerland; I’m not sure what her diagnosis will end up being, but he’s still drinking from a bottle.”

“I gave him too much mercy.”

“Well, that depends if you waited to see if he was actually dead, or you threw him in the harbor to drown while he tried to stop the bleeding. The latter would be reasonably satisfying.” His Alpha snorts.

“And everyone thinks I’m the bloodthirsty one.” Xanxus grins at him. “But then we’re talking about kit abuse, aren’t we?” He shrugs. “I’ll get Lussuria to come and check on him. They and I are tiptoeing towards a Guardian bond, though I’ll have to make it clear I’m going to be Decimo; they may not be ready to be the first femminiello Guardian.”

“You’re halfway to taking the Varia simply by coopting the Officers, aren’t you.” He makes it a statement, not a question, and his Alpha looks sheepish. “And there I was, setting up for Squalo to be their Boss. Tyr’s looking for a replacement, and he’d be a good fit. They only have Skies as Boss under _very_ specific circumstance; too much risk of the entire Pack going rogue.”

They carry their kits through into the makeshift nursery and settles them in turn into the nest of cushions that makes up their bed for the time being. He layers some of his own secondary over them to encourage them to stay asleep; he had no desire to be interrupted by his kits while being raked by his Alpha.

“Do you know how fucking hot you are, cooing at our kits?” His Alpha’s eyes are red-orange, and he’s mesmerised. “And they are _our_ kits, aren’t they?” His Alpha dares him to say no, clearly half-expects his claim to be denied, but his lips curve.

“You demanded that all of my kits be yours. And yes, I know what you meant, but they’re my kits, too. Takeshi’s claimed both of them -”

“- you’re going to adopt any kit I bring you, aren’t you?” He schools his face into an innocent expression. “Tsch. I have a kit for you, too. And two more that I’ve been wanting to … acquire.” He grins, and then turns, heading for his bedroom, trusting his Alpha will follow him. He’s not wrong; Xanxus pounces, bowling him onto his bed, Flames pouring over both of them, and he almost protests at the loss of the suit he’s wearing. (He was going to have to have actual Flame protections applied to his clothes; he hadn’t bothered before. He had to work to externalise his Flames; even at his most infuriated, he didn’t scorch more than his underclothes.)

He spreads his legs, and Xanxus settles himself over him. “The Falco kit? His uncle has appealed to us again. Papa refuses to intervene, but he’s clearly meant to be with the threesome in our nursery; he looks just like a washed-out G.”

“And his sister. One of my Storms is her aunt on the maternal side and has been begging Don Falco to be permitted to apprentice the girl before she kills someone accidentally.”

“ _My_ Storms, Xanxus?” His Alpha makes a sheepish sound, and he turns his head enough to see the hand on his left; he recognises that Ring. “So, how long _have_ you been the Varia’s Storm Officer, and which method did you choose to introduce yourself?”

Xanxus doesn’t answer him; instead, he slides two rough fingers into his slick opening and stretches his opening with vicious insistence. (He wants to be loose and easy for his Alpha, but his body won’t finish adapting until his kits have been delivered.) Once he’s open enough from his Alpha’s point of view, the fingers are replaced with a thick, hot cock that makes his Flames sing.

“I’m never going to tire of your cock, Xanxus. I can’t believe I made it this long without succumbing to the _need_ to be bred; it feels so good to be full, to be protected and wanted and _needed_.” His Alpha shudders, burying his head in the crook of his neck, Xanxus’s Flames writhing and pulsing through him, so utterly possessive and hungry for him, and he can’t help but draw on the Flames available to him in response. He threads his hands in his baby brother’s hair and clenches, desperate for him to _move_. Xanxus obliges, fucking him with long, brutal thrusts and biting kisses that drag the air from his lungs and set fire rolling up his spine.

“Going to cum for me, ’Rico?” He nods, and his baby brother grins at him. “I haven’t even flared yet, -” he shivers, and Xanxus’s smile turns leonine. “- you’re going to cum on my cock, and then you’re going to come again for my barbs and pass out on my knot -” he arches, and cums, his hole clenching impossibly hard, Flames aiding him in his bid to please his Alpha. “- so good for me. I can’t wait to meet the kits you’ve made for me.” Xanxus murmurs the words in his ear and shudders, an aftershock more orgasm than not ripping through him.

His Flames lash and boil even as his Alpha resumes fucking him, his barbs flaring achingly slowing, every half-thrust making him moan in pleasure as he’s raked more and more thoroughly, the entrance to his kits’ nest impossibly sensitive to being scraped by his Alpha’s barbs. “Fuck. Xanxus. Such a brat. You’re going to leave me unable to walk -”

“I promised to keep you full of my kits and cloistered, ’Rico. There’s nowhere you need to be for a couple of days, si?” He swats at his Alpha stills and presses more kisses on him.

“Papa is being a pill, Xanxus. Your duties keep you out of his way, but if I skip more than one meal, he’ll try and invade my suite.” His Alpha hmphs, and he rolls his eyes and clenches on the cock in his cunt. “I thought you were going to make me cum again, brat? Your barbs feel good, but they’re not enough unless you put your back into it -” his Alpha laughs, and lifts one of his legs up onto his shoulder and puts his back into fucking him, and he lets himself drift on the pleasure and the Flames saturating his room. Their Skies were already bleeding into each other, the Storm of his Alpha’s Wrath dancing over the surface of both. Guido’s Cloud covers them all, obscuring what they’re doing and he arches and shuts his eyes as all three Flames ground through him as he cums.

“Oh, Fuck.” The words bring him up from his well-earnt subspace.

“Xan?” His Alpha catches up one of his hands and presses it to his own belly. There’s a kick, and his own eyes widen. “They shouldn’t be … it’s been weeks, not months.”

“I’ll send Lussuria a message.” His Alpha hums. “Are you naturally Cloudy, ’Rico? There was a lot of it in the room -”

* * *

“I’ve seen this twice before, Boss. It’s not a good habit for an omega to get in to; Signore Fermi, I’m going to have to put you on a repairing diet.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Clothing could hide his swollen abdomen (he hadn’t truly popped yet, but he suspected he had days, not weeks), but the diet his baby brother’s Sun was suggesting would be much harder to hide.

“Luss, is Mammon back from their mission?”

“Not yet. They’re overdue, but not dangerously so.” His Alpha makes a face. “Guido wandered in and killed Ottabio just before I arrived, though, Boss. I think you can safely say the Varia is yours. And there is precedent for the Heir to spend time with us, especially if he’s worried about protecting his kits from all the people who have to have access to the Fort -”

“- Tsuyoshi is back and overdue a Heat. I wonder if he’d oblige?” His Alpha snorts.

“Squalo’s stalking him; hopefully, he and Guido will be willing to share rather than having a spat over it.”

“Mou. Varia Officers aren’t permitted to fight each other over omegas. Either they share, or the omega makes their choice, and the other officer takes the available ‘messy’ contracts until they can deal with the rejection.” The tiny form of one of the Arcobaleno shades into view on his Alpha’s shoulder. “And I am going to skin whoever put that information packet together.”

“How much extra are they going to need to be charged?”

“Mou. Two hundred percent at a _minimum_.” The Mist sounds indignant. “And I can hide your new kits temporarily, Boss, but no more than a few days; if they’ve quickened, they’ll start to get noisier. And enough Flames to hide their presence will be, itself, rather obvious.”

He whines and buries his head in his Alpha’s chest, making the Varia Officers around him laugh. His Alpha just pets him gently. “Let’s see how long it takes him to notice that you’re with us in the Castle, ’Rico. As Guido’s taken the Cloud slot, you could legitimately fort up in his suite for a few weeks, even without our mating thrown in. Especially if he thinks you should be breeding Tsuyoshi.”

* * *

“Takeshi is a likely Asari omega, Don Vongola. He has all the instincts and the aptitudes that go with that status. Given a choice, I would not have returned until he was Active and trained; I had no desire to watch him fall to our curse.” He watches his Rain glare across the table at his Papa, and he half wishes the tall Japanese male would decapitate the bastard. “Guido killed Ottabio accidentally; he will be taking up the Cloud Officer position at least temporarily, and I will take the opportunity to nest in the comparative privacy of the Castle. I do not understand how Visconti tolerates how open the Fort is, Timoteo.”

“I suppose it will do everyone good to realise how dangerous my son’s Right Hand is. Six months.” He barely restrains his sigh of relief. “You would do so well as to try and find your teeth, Enrico.” He lays a hand on Xanxus’s thigh below the table, feels the tension in his Alpha’s muscles, and wills his baby brother not to snarl and launch himself across the dining room to make it very clear that he didn’t need teeth; he had his Alpha.

“Six months … should I keep up with the housekeeping, Papa?”

“You may as well continue what you’re good at. We have no omega that you’re usurping unless you can sire a kit on your damn Rain.” Tsuyoshi looks like he’s about to bristle, and he sighs.

“Papa, perhaps you could refrain from baiting my Rain while he’s making the decision to _permit_ himself another heat. I know you sired my brothers and I on beta women, but you have to know that an omega _chooses_.” His lips twitch. “Some of the most dangerous Flame Users in the world are omegas; all of the Arcobaleno are, after all.” He rests his chin on his hands. “Is that why you didn’t bitch Iemitsu? You didn’t want to give him power?” He goes on without waiting for his father to answer. “I mean, I was really surprised you didn’t put my little brothers in his cunt; you were so clearly infatuated with him.”

“He was Giotto’s descendant -”

“And Giotto was an omega. Bitching Iemitsu would have leashed him and put him to a use in a way that didn’t come damn close to destroying the Family. Do you _know_ how much of a mess CEDeF is currently in?”

“Tsch. If you’re going to be moving into the Castle, I suppose I should make sure you don’t get mobbed immediately, ’Rico. They’re … rambunctious. Especially around Skies.” His father’s eyebrows rise. “I was bored. Acquiring one of their Rings was accidental, Papa. In much the same way that Guido’s was.” His Alpha’s smile goes shark-like. “I got a Guardian and a pretty geegaw out of my temper tantrum.”

“Hmph. The Superbi spare, I assume. Tyr mentioned he’d been stalking you when we last discussed the state of the Varia.” He sits back in his chair, and enjoys the way his kits are wriggling in his womb; they seem to like their sire in full flow.

“Squalo and I have been having a lot of fun in the catteries, Papa.” His father’s expression is beyond priceless; he knows what his Alpha means, but he can _see_ exactly how it looks to his father. “We’ve been _being_ _careful_ though.” Oh, his Alpha was learning and learning _fast_. “He’s trying to talk me into stalking the Cavallone kit. Apparently, he’s all blond and pretty and ripe to be bred.”

He kicks his Alpha’s ankle.

(He was right, though. He’d love to wrap himself around the blond and hold the kit’s pretty little cunt open for his Alpha to breed. They could stuff him full of kits for the Cavallone, and half-feral Vongola kits, the wildness that the horse-keepers hid so well would give them kits that made his Alpha look mild-mannered.)

“He’s bought and _paid_ for.” His father _snarls_ at his Alpha, and he grins.

“Ah. I did wonder if you were going to wave him at me, Papa; I was just picturing Xanxus and I sharing him; after all, I’m fairly sure I could claim my baby brother as my Storm if I threw Guido and I’s Will into doing so. And having the Varia well-leashed would make my ascension … easier, ne?”


End file.
